


Turning Page

by picturecat



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Asthmatic Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Road Trips, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9446078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picturecat/pseuds/picturecat
Summary: Tony takes Steve on a road trip. It doesn't go as he had planned, but then, nothing has.





	

Of course Steve had an asthma attack.

They’d ended up on a detour of their detour, Steve insisting laughingly that they just had to see the 20-foot-tall statues of the heads of American presidents.

Tony, being a sucker for Steve laughing, and also Steve in general, had caved and taken the next exit, and they’d been having as much fun as two people could, staring up at the nostrils of dead U.S. presidents past, when Steve had caught a lungful of someone’s secondhand smoke and started coughing.

It hadn’t been that bad, at first—but Steve had left his inhaler in the car, and between that first breath of irritants and carcinogens, and their power-walk back to the car, it had really put Steve on his ass.

Even now, hours later, Steve is passed out in the car, exhausted, for all that he’d insisted he would be fine until they at least made it to the motel they picked out in their schedule. Usually Tony wouldn’t miss Steve’s DJ-ing, which is almost entirely Disney songs and one-hit wonders, but—it’s past dark now, just a too-bright moon over an open highway, and, well…

The road is a lonely place.

“Figures even this one thing couldn’t go right for me,” Tony says, and then glances over at Steve to make sure he’s still asleep.

He is—curled half in on himself sideways in the seat, bony hand clutching a blanket to his chest. His mouth is just slightly open, drooling a little, and the moonlight has him lit up. It’s a strange effect—his skin looks like it’s glowing, except for where stark black shadows block the light, and his face looks like a fucking painting, all moonglow and pale smooth skin and the dark falls of shadows from his eyelashes and hair.

The car jolts—shudders—Tony is driving on the shoulder, fucking _shit_ —

He wrenches the car back into his lane, heart going too fast, and focuses on _driving in a straight line_. Christ.

His ears burn as Steve shifts beside him, no doubt disturbed by Tony trying to go off-road. He’ll say he fell asleep at the wheel, it was late, he was tired, Steve will believe that—Steve will get worried by that, Steve will probably insist that he take over driving, which isn’t happening, but what is Tony supposed to say? _Oh, sorry, I was just composing poetry in my head about your stupid face, yeah, don’t worry about it—_

Tony glances over.

Steve has shifted, his head tilted away from Tony now, but his breaths are still coming even and undisturbed. He’s asleep.

Tony lets out a breath. “Thank god,” he mutters.

He steals another glance at Steve. “I’m glad you came with me,” he admits lowly. “It was a stupid idea, I know, but I’ve never been on a road trip before. And I just wanted to spend some time with you and I figured the road was a good place to… to be healthy. Recharge our batteries.

“You know I love you,” he says shakily, and he doesn’t know why this is all coming out _now_ , when Steve is _asleep_ , but he can’t stop it. “And I’m sorry I haven’t said it recently, but I don’t know how, anymore, I don’t know how to make it mean something when I won’t—“ his voice breaks, and he takes a deep breath, “—when I won’t be around,” he finishes.

Tony’s free hand is up at his chest, tapping nervously. He has maybe eight months—at least five of them good, optimistically, and he wonders how long he should try to push it.

It’s not like Steve isn’t going to notice him getting sicker, eventually; he’ll see Tony’s meds or his symptoms and he’ll freak out and Tony can’t let him find out like that, he can’t, he has to tell him before that.

But he wants to not tell him for as long as he can.

Their exit comes up and Tony signals even though there’s no one on the road, and he turns.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, quiet. “I’m really fucking sorry. But hey, maybe I’ll miraculously go into remission and you’ll never have to know anyway, right?” He says, and squeezes the steering wheel. “I should’ve taken you to Aruba,” he blurts. “We could do better than shitty motels, in Aruba. Spend a lot of time naked, probably. I could rent out an entire beach and have anyone who smoked near you shot.”

Their motel is ahead, a lone glowing sign below the moon. Tony slows, and pulls into the lot, and stops talking.

The fluorescents are harsh, washing everything out, and Tony is hit with a wave of exhaustion. God, he just wants to curl up in a shitty motel bed with Steve and sleep.

He reaches out and shakes Steve’s shoulder, gently, and makes his voice sound as normal as he can.

The moonlight is gone. He just wants to sleep.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, and it comes out softer than he means it to. Steve shifts, slowly, and sits up in his seat.

He’s staring out at the fluorescent lights.

“We’re here?” Steve asks, and Tony turns off the car. The sudden silence is jarring.

“Yeah,” he says, and they grab their overnight bags, lock up, and check in. The fluorescents inside are even harsher than the ones in the lot, and Tony’s glad when they step into their room and into the low-lit lamplight.

Tony drops his bags, kicks off his shoes, and faceplants onto the bed. It smells a little musty, but Tony could not care less. “C’mere,” he says into the blankets, and thumps his arm on the bed beside him.

Steve doesn’t join him. “I don’t get it,” he says.

Tony turns his head. “Get what?” he yawns, and squirms out of his pants.

Steve sits on the edge of the bed. “Were you going to tell me?” he asks, and Tony, uncomprehending, flips onto his back.

“Tell you to go the fuck to sleep,” he hums drowsily, eyes sliding shut.

“God _dammit_ , Tony,” Steve bites out, and Tony startles. “You _know_ what I mean.”

And Tony’s blood goes cold.

He sits up, slowly. “You were awake,” he says numbly.

Steve nods, jaw clenched too-tight. “Not really at first,” he says. “But then I heard you—I—“ he cuts off. “How sick are you?” he asks, softly, but so distraught and plaintive he might as well have shouted it.

Tony would have preferred he shouted it.

“ _How sick_ are you?” Steve asks again, demands this time. He turns to face Tony and his eyes are wet, his face is wretched and pale and wrecked. “What did you mean by _when you won’t be around?_ ”

Tony can’t speak. Everything is frozen and heavy in his stomach because he’s ruined everything, he’s ruined their stupid vacation and Steve _knows_.

“I didn’t want to tell you here,” he says, through numb lips, and Steve whirls on him.

“You didn’t want to tell me at all,” he snarls. “Dammit, Tony, _how sick are you?_ ”

He knows, he can tell it’s bad, but he doesn’t want to believe it. He won’t believe it. Not until Tony says something.

Tony opens his mouth. “Steve,” he says. “Steve. I’m really sick, baby.”

“Tony,” Steve says waveringly, and then clenches his eyes shut and takes several gasping breaths. “Oh god,” he moans, and tears start to come, and Steve gulps at the air, shuddering. His breath takes on a distinct wheeze.

Tony lunges for him. “You have your inhaler?” he asks, and Steve fumbles for his bag, manages to grab his inhaler, and takes a slow puff from the spacer, his free hand shaking in Tony’s grasp.

Tony strokes his back, slowly. Soothing. “Just breathe, baby,” he murmurs, and pulls Steve back to lie down with him, settling him with his head over Tony’s heartbeat.

“Just breathe with me,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> "Turning Page" is a song by Sleeping At Last. I snatched the title for this fic for no real reason except that the song was pretty and playing when I needed a title.


End file.
